Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (26 page)

BOOK: Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3
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‘Wickham!’ she called. ‘George!’

But it was too late. He had already gone.

‘Now, young lady,’ said Mr Darcy in cool and commanding tones. ‘You are coming with me.’

Lydia was about to protest but one raise of Mr Darcy’s haughty eyebrow made her change her mind. With much grumbling she put on her pelisse and bonnet and accompanied him out of the inn.

As Mr Darcy suspected, Mr Wickham had not chosen to flee in his hired carriage but had hired a horse instead, for it was quicker and cheaper. Mr Darcy could just see him riding away into the distance.

Mr Darcy therefore ordered the carriage to be readied and he kept a close eye on Lydia while the ostlers put the horses into harness. Then he tied his own horse onto the back of the carriage and instructed the coachman to set off back to Brussels.

Lydia sulked all the way. She started off by complaining, but when it became clear that Mr Darcy was not listening she folded her arms and slumped in the corner, casting petulant glances at him every now and then.

Mr Darcy ignored her. He was thinking how best to deal with the situation.

By the time he arrived back to Brussels he had made up his mind.

He ordered the coachman to take the carriage to Lady Fitzwilliam’s house, where he sent for Mrs Annesley. He directed her to accompany him, as a chaperon for Miss Lydia Bennet. He explained that Miss Bennet had been shopping with friends and had become lost. Luckily, he had run across her and so he was returning her to her family.

Lydia let out a loud sigh, but Mr Darcy ignored her.

Mrs Annesley expressed her sympathies and said that Brussels could be a very confusing city. She herself had almost been lost on several occasions.

Mr Darcy then ordered the coachman to drive to the Staceys’ house.

The carriage at last came to a halt outside the splendid residence.

Mr Darcy did everything with decorum, so that if they were seen, no one would suspect anything amiss. He climbed out first, then opened the door for Lydia and gave her his arm as they crossed the pavement, followed by Mrs Annesley. He lifted the splendid brass door knocker and there was a pleasing
clang!
as it fell. Before long, the Staceys’ English butler, who had accompanied them to Brussels, answered the door. He greeted them politely and bowed them inside.

‘Is Mr Stacey at home?’ Mr Darcy enquired.

‘I am afraid not,’ said the butler.

‘Is Mr Gardiner here?’ asked Mr Darcy.

‘Yes, Sir. He returned not ten minutes ago,’ said the butler.

‘Then please tell him I would like to speak to him.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ said the butler with a bow. ‘Allow me to show you to the library. Will Miss Lydia be joining you?’

‘Miss Lydia will wait in the ante-room with her companion,’ said Mr Darcy firmly.

‘Very good, Sir.’

Lydia gave him a mutinous look but he did not expect any further trouble from her, at least not for a while. Although she was headstrong and spoilt, she was also wise enough to know that she was in trouble and that this could not be airily waved away. She would have gone quite happily with George Wickham, he had no doubt, but now that she was back with her family – that is to say, her sensible aunt and uncle - she would behave herself, at least for a time, even if she complained and chattered nonsensically all the while.

The butler led the way. He opened the door of the ante-room and Lydia went in, followed by Mrs Annesley. Then he led Mr Darcy to the library.

Shortly afterwards, Mr Darcy was joined by a harassed-looking Mr Gardiner.

‘I beg your pardon, but I cannot see you now,’ said Mr Gardiner. ‘You know of our difficulties and I must leave again immediately. I came back only to tell my wife what had so far been done, and what is now proposed.’

‘Have no fear,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘Your niece is safe. She is at this very minute in the ante-room next door with my sister’s companion.’

Mr Gardiner’s face wore an incredulous look which then expanded into a look of great relief.

‘Can it be so?’

‘It is so,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘My dear Sir,’ said Mr Gardiner, taking Mr Darcy’s hand and pumping it up and down. ‘I do not know how you brought this miracle about but I thank you from the bottom of my heart. My niece is a heedless, thoughtless girl but the thought of her ruining herself over so worthless a fellow as Wickham – it does not bear thinking about. And now, thanks to you, we do not need to think about it. But how did it happen?’

And so Mr Darcy told him everything.

‘I explained to my sister’s companion that Miss Lydia Bennet had become lost while shopping with friends and I suggest you adopt the same explanation. I will go and see Colonel Forster and his wife. Colonel Forster’s agitation was seen by a number of people but it can easily be explained if he was looking for his wife’s lost friend. The idea of an elopement can be speedily crushed and dismissed as scurrilous gossip.’

‘My dear Sir, I do not know how we can ever thank you. Our whole family owes you a great debt.’

‘I think it might be as well if Miss Lydia joined you here. Colonel Forster must necessarily have his attention elsewhere and his wife is very young to have charge of Miss Lydia. You and your wife would be better suited to watching over her.’

‘My very thoughts,’ said Mr Gardiner. ‘We will keep a close eye on her. In fact, I am tempted to sail with Mr Bingley tomorrow. My wife can stay with her nieces and her friend, but my business needs me and Lydia would be safer at home. Brussels is a large city full of temptations, and it would be wise to remove her from it.’

‘A good idea,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘Speaking of Mr Bingley, I like that young man,’ said Mr Gardiner thoughtfully. ‘He is a friend of yours, I believe?’

‘He is.’

‘He would be a welcome addition to any family,’ said Mr Gardiner with a bow.

‘I am glad to hear you say so,’ said Mr Darcy with a smile. ‘And now I must leave you.’

‘Yes, we have occupied you too much already,’ said Mr Gardiner. ‘Thank you again for all you have done.’

Mr Darcy bowed in acknowledgement of the thanks and then he left the house.

As he did so, there was a spring in his step. He had shown Elizabeth he could be a gentleman; he had shown her he could admit his faults and unite her sister with his friend; and he had shown her that he would not be parted from her by something so trivial as her sister’s folly – for although Lydia’s folly was great indeed, it was nothing when compared to the very great pleasure he had from Elizabeth’s company: from her wit and intelligence, from her humour and liveliness, and from the expression in her beautiful, lovely fine eyes.

Chapter Twelve

 

The Duchess of Richmond’s ball was the subject on everyone’s lips but Elizabeth was no longer looking forward to the event. After Lydia’s disgrace she did not dare to hope that Mr Darcy would continue in his attentions. She put aside her own disappointment, however, because she did not want to ruin the evening for her sisters.

Jane was floating along on a cloud of happiness since meeting Mr Bingley again. Even though he had departed she was radiant, for he had gone to ask Mr Bennet if he could have her hand in marriage.

‘When do you think the wedding will be?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘In the autumn,’ said Jane. ‘I think we would both like to marry in September or October. That should give Mamma time to make the arrangements. It will need to be announced and the banns need to be read and so the autumn will suit us very well. Luckily, Mr Bingley still has the lease on Netherfield Park so we have a home to move into.’

She looked a trifle guilty.

‘What is it?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Only that I am not sure it is a good idea for us to settle quite so near Longbourn,’ said Jane. ‘Mamma means well but she intends to visit us every day, she says, and Mr Bingley feels that will be a little too often.’

‘Oh, Jane! You are too good. A
little
too often? It will be terrible! You must be firm. You must tell Mamma that once a week is enough.’

‘I fear she will not listen. Mamma has a habit of only hearing what she wishes to hear,’ said Jane. ‘Mr Bingley thinks he would like to look for a house further afield after Christmas. I think it will be a good idea but I will only countenance it if you come and stay with us, Lizzy. I cannot bear to be parted from you for long.’

‘You will have new pleasures when you are married, and new responsibilities,’ said Lizzy.

She and Jane hugged each other, for they both knew it to be true. Life was changing, and although Jane was deliriously happy to be marrying Mr Bingley, she was also sad to know that her life with Lizzy could never be the same.

‘I only hope you can be as happy as I am, Lizzy,’ said Jane.

‘Alas, there is no hope of that after Lydia’s escapade,’ said Elizabeth sorrowfully. But then she roused herself. She made a determined attempt to be cheerful and managed a joke, for Jane’s sake. ‘If I am lucky, perhaps another Mr Collins might come along in time and ask me to be his wife.’

‘Do not even joke about such a thing,’ said Jane. ‘I am sure Mr Darcy will not mind about Lydia.’

‘Not mind? Oh, Jane, only you could be so good as to think he will not mind,’ said Elizabeth in a resigned tone of voice. ‘Lydia has disgraced us all.’

‘But Lydia has been sent home,’ said Jane. ‘My uncle Gardiner is accompanying her on the journey and he will make sure she can get up to no more mischief. She can do no more harm.’

‘The harm has already been done,’ said Elizabeth sorrowfully.

‘But Mr Darcy protected Lydia, as he protected our family name,’ Jane pointed out. ‘His quick thinking enabled us to say that Lydia had become lost and that any rumours of her eloping with Mr Wickham were nothing more than idle gossip. He would surely not have protected her – and us – if he were truly disgusted.’

‘Yes, Jane, he would,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He did not do it to protect us especially, he did it because he is a gentleman.’

As she said the words, she had a sudden vivid memory of a bright evening in April, when Mr Darcy had stormed into the parsonage at Hunsford and asked her to marry him. She remembered saying that he was not a gentleman and she bit her lip as she wished she could recall those words, for Mr Darcy had proved himself every inch a gentleman over the last few days; first by rescuing Lydia and then by protecting her reputation.

‘You will see, I am right,’ said Jane. ‘It will not make any difference to him.’

‘It has made a difference,’ said Elizabeth sadly. ‘He has not been to see us since that day.’

‘He has most likely been busy,’ said Jane sweetly. ‘Do not forget, his sister is here and he has to escort her to various activities. There are a number of entertainments being laid on for young people of her age. He has to be polite to his other relatives as well. He is staying with his aunt, Lady Fitzwilliam, and she might have things she wishes him to do. He is also no doubt anxious to spend some time with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, since he might soon be going into battle.’

‘You are right, there are many calls on his time. But if he did not care about Lydia, then he would have found time to visit, even if only for a quarter of an hour.’

Jane opened her mouth to speak again but Elizabeth silenced her gently.

‘Do not fret, Jane,’ she said. ‘I do not want to spoil your pleasure in the ball, and I do not want to spoil Mary and Kitty’s pleasure either. Especially not Mary’s.’

‘No,’ said Jane. ‘You are right. We must not spoil things for our sisters. Who would have thought that Mary would fall in love? I am glad. I have often worried about Mary. She did not seem to have a special friend in the household. You and I have each other. Kitty and Lydia have each other. But Mary has no one. And yet now, she has met someone. I like him. He is serious enough to please Mary’s serious nature and yet he is light hearted enough to encourage her to enjoy herself as well.’

‘Has she decided what to wear for the ball?’

‘She is still uncertain. I believe we should help her, for she cannot decide between the blue muslin or the white silk.’

Elizabeth and Jane went along the corridor to their sister’s room. Kitty was there with Mary, and they spent the afternoon deciding on all the smallest details of their outfits for the ball.

Elizabeth joined in with the discussion. But privately she thought it did not signify what she wore since the one man she wanted to please was the one man who had now gone beyond her reach, for Lydia’s foolishness had surely parted them for ever.

 

Mr Darcy’s time was spent much as Jane had suggested. He had been about to call on Elizabeth on the afternoon of the ball but he had been delayed by his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had given him grave news. There had been a skirmish at Quatre Bras. The French had been driven off – almost two thousand of them – but they would come again.

‘I know you were intending to stay a while, Darcy, but I think you should leave tomorrow,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘Events are moving quickly and we could soon be in the middle of a full scale battle. I would feel better if Georgiana was safely back in England, and you too.’

Mr Darcy nodded. His cousin had kept him well informed about military matters and he knew that Napoleon had left Paris some days before. Events were indeed moving quickly but he did not want to alarm Georgiana. She was too young to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s ball and so she was spending the evening with her Fitzwilliam cousins.

Mr Darcy spoke to her maid and her companion, telling them to begin packing her things.

‘Say nothing to Miss Georgiana,’ he instructed them. ‘But I want to be ready to leave tomorrow.’

‘It would be as well to advise the Bennets to leave tomorrow as well. Say nothing tonight. Let them enjoy the ball. But go and see them in the morning and advise them to leave as soon as they reasonably can.’

Mr Darcy agreed. He trusted his cousin and knew that Colonel Fitzwilliam would not give such advice unless it was necessary.

He had one night to enjoy with Elizabeth and then they would be on their way, back to England, where Mr Bingley would not be the only one speaking to Mr Bennet, for Mr Darcy intended to speak to him too, and ask for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.

 

At last the time came for Elizabeth to go to the ball. It was the 15
th
June and almost the longest day, when dark did not fall until after ten o’clock. So it was that the Bennets drove to the Duke's house in the Rue de la Blanchisserie in the daylight. The house was a magnificent sight and Elizabeth felt the stirrings of excitement as she went inside, for who could fail to be excited at such an event? All the most notable people of the age were there, including the Prince of Orange, the Duke of Brunswick and the Duke of Wellington, who was the commander of the British army.

              There had been talk of war ever since they had arrived in Brussels but fortunately it had so far come to nothing. Despite this, Elizabeth was glad their time in Brussels was coming to an end, for war now seemed certain.

She had enjoyed her time on the Continent – indeed, there were moments she would never forget – but now she was ready to go home. It would not be on the morrow, since the ball would go on until the early hours of the morning, but on the day after that they would pack their things and then they would start on the journey homeward.

There was a lot to look forward to, she told herself. There was Jane’s wedding and possible Mary’s wedding, too. And in time perhaps she herself would be an aunt. Yes, there was plenty to look forward to and she would not allow herself to be cast down. She had a resilient temperament and she meant to make the most of what she had, instead of pining for what she could never have.

The ballroom was on the ground floor. It was a magnificent apartment decorated with rose trellis wallpaper and lit by marvellous chandeliers, for although it was still light outside, inside the daylight was not strong enough to forego the light of candles.

Jane’s hand was sought by Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary danced with Mr Manningham. Kitty was partnered by an elderly general, but there were several young officers on her dance card and so she did not mind being polite in the meantime.

Elizabeth was the only sister not dancing.

All at once she felt conspicuous. Her aunt was talking to Mrs Stacey and Elizabeth felt exposed. To make matters worse, the ladies next to her saw her lone condition and started gossiping about her.

Some of their words reached her ears.

‘. . . sister a flirt . . .  allowed to run around unchaperoned . . . only sixteen . . . ran away with one of the officers . . . ’

Just as Elizabeth felt herself blushing a fiery red she heard a cool masculine voice saying, ‘Really, Mrs Summers, you should know better than to listen to gossip.’

It was Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth turned to face the direction of his voice and her heart skipped a beat. He was everything she wanted in a man. He was tall and handsome, with waving dark hair and velvety brown eyes. He looked immaculate in his black tailcoat and cream breeches, and his snowy white cravat showed up against the light tan of his skin. The gold signet ring on his little finger caught the light, as did the diamond in his tie pin. He had an air of command about him and yet there was something softer there, too; an inner warmth that belied his cool exterior. He let very few people see that side of him, but he had allowed Elizabeth to see it.

‘Mr Darcy!’ said Mrs and the three Miss Summers in unison.

‘I can assure you it is not gossip,’ said Mrs Summers.

‘And I can assure you it is,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘I found Miss Lydia myself, when she had become separated from her friends and found that she was lost. She did not elope with anyone, least of all Mr Wickham. On the contrary, she has returned to England with her Uncle, whose business did not allow him to stay in Brussels any longer. Being the youngest of the Bennet sisters, it is natural she would not like being away from home for as long as her older sisters and it was always the plan she would return to England before the rest of her family. As I know you are above malicious gossip I am sure you will contradict the story if you hear it being circulated.’

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said Mrs Summers, flustered. Then, seizing the moment, she said, ‘Do you intend to dance, Mr Darcy?’

‘Yes. Indeed I do,’ he said.

The three Miss Summers fluttered their fans and looked conscious, but instead of asking one of them to dance he said, ‘I am engaged to dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’

Then he bowed politely and walked away.

Elizabeth could not believe it! Not only had he protected Lydia’s reputation yet again, he had said he intended to dance with her. Did it mean . . .?Could it mean . . . ?

And then he was standing before her.

‘Well, Miss Elizabeth,’ he said, with a warm smile which spread up to his eyes and made them glow, ‘will you dance with me?’

‘Yes,’ she said, overcome with happiness. ‘With the greatest of pleasure. I will.’

He offered her his arm. She placed her hand upon it and felt a sense of connection with him which made her tingle from head to toe. Then she held her head high as he led her out on to the floor.

Elizabeth had eyes only for him. The world disappeared as they danced together, the music and the stately steps mesmerising them and making them feel as if they were in a dream.

When the music stopped, Mr Darcy asked her for the next dance and again they were lost in each other as they danced.

Reality at last intruded. They could not dance more than two dances together, for it would be considered scandalous, and so reluctantly they parted, but not before Mr Darcy had asked if he might take Elizabeth into supper and been told that she would be delighted.

‘I see that Mr Darcy has not been put off by Lydia’s escapade,’ said Mrs Gardiner, coming up to Elizabeth.

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